


Heart and Hearth

by TrickyTricky



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-04
Updated: 2019-05-04
Packaged: 2020-02-16 00:30:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18680422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrickyTricky/pseuds/TrickyTricky
Summary: Tiny slice-of-life snippet in a slightly kinder post-Order 66 AU





	Heart and Hearth

**Author's Note:**

  * For [skywalking-across-the-galaxy (BadWolfGirl01)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BadWolfGirl01/gifts).



> This was a bit rushed since it was a pinch hit, so apologies in advance for any lingering rough patches or errors. 
> 
> I hope the recipient enjoys it!

Cody waited.

The twin suns chased each other endlessly across the sky, their cast-off heat hammering down without mercy on the dust and life below them alike. He remained comfortably settled inside the home they were building together, the air chilled to a pleasant enough temperature by the salvaged cooling system they had managed to repair the week previous. He seldom ventured outside during the day himself, still recovering from all he had endured to make it there. In another life, he would have chafed at the enforced stillness, at the lack of interaction with other people and rigorous physical activity he previously measured out his days with. 

Now, he was happy to be quiet and still. To spend his days re-learning fine motor skills with his left hand, the prosthesis not one of the more advanced models, but effective enough for his needs. He was content to tinker with minor household repairs and experiment with small bits of creative fiber crafts, whiling away the hours until he would see Obi-Wan again. 

The desert had not taught him patience.

Patience was a virtue that had been associated with him for as long as he could remember. 

Cody had always been patient. Always steady. He was the one others could rely on, had always been there to help others in need.

He was still patient, but now it was himself he had to be patient with. Had to forgive himself over and over again for how slow he was to adapt to the wildly fluctuating temperatures this planet ravaged its surface with day after day, the brutal heat driving them into shelter on one end of the extreme, the cold of deep night making every damaged joint ache fiercely on the other. Had to keep reminding himself that the life they would create for themselves here could not be built in a day.

Finding a good stopping point in his current project, he set aside needle and yarn, carefully extracting the strand of home-spun bantha wool that tried to snag around an exposed piston. It only took him a moment to cross the small living area and reach the space designated for food preparation. Obi-Wan would be returning soon and he liked to welcome him home with a sweet, cooled cup of mint tea. 

He took note of the stocks remaining in the cupboard as he moved about, mentally tallying up what would need to be replaced on the next supply run. A tribe of Jawas would likely be coming through their area in a sand-crawler within the next few days. They were due for a trip to Mos Eisley to refresh some of their basic provisions, and the Jawas were always willing to trade a ride for a couple of harmless vagabonds in exchange for a bottle of the wickedly strong alcoholic beverage Obi-Wan created by fermenting the bantha milk he gathered. Cody found the excursions into town uncomfortable, but forced himself to go regardless. They would be partners in this as in all things, and the thought of Obi-Wan alone in that den of criminals without someone to watch his back was much more disagreeable. 

Between the two of them, Obi-Wan was still by far the more effective at ensuring they were not cheated at the market stalls, his ability to barter and negotiate as keen now as it was when it had been utilized for far higher stakes. Cody did not entirely discount his own contributions; he would cross his arms and hover closely, carefully keeping the corners of his mouth turned down. It was not difficult to maintain an unpleasant demeanor in the face of the grit and loudness of the crowded streets and the scars he bore increased the intimidation factor all on their own. He knew his silent scowls directed over Obi-Wan’s shoulder had cowed more than one vendor into a more reasonable position, even as Obi-Wan carried on with his seemingly oblivious pleasantries, making small talk about market trends and trade routes, remembering every being’s name and rattling off smooth, polite inquiries about their children and extended families. 

Watching him during those interactions, you would never think this was the same man who sometimes still lost himself in his own thoughts, his eyes growing dark and dim as his past trauma set its hooks into his mind. Cody knew he still had a long road to walk to recovery, but Obi-Wan had nearly as far to go himself. He was better now than when Cody had first found him, had more good days now than bad, but Cody would still sometimes find him sitting in a dark corner, rocking back and forth, dark scenes playing out over and over in his memories. Cody could usually draw him out with a small distraction; a strong cup of tea held under his nose, a careful hand stroking gently through his hair, a quiet thread of music put on the player to fill their little hut with soft soothing tones.

Obi-Wan more than returned the favor, hushing and soothing him when Cody still found himself waking nearly every night from nightmares with terrified screams or silent shudders or tortured groans. He could not talk about his experiences with the Empire yet, about what had driven him from it; he would not. But Obi-Wan never pressed, never rebuked, only made himself a soft, inviting warmth that Cody could cling to in the cold, dark nights, his talisman against the evil that he could sometimes still feel stalking him even from the other side of the galaxy. And in the mornings Obi-Wan would pull him up, would put together a small meal of flatcakes and tea, and guide him out into the perfectly balanced chill of pre-dawn’s glimmer to work through some of the basic katas of his people. 

Cody never failed to notice that each movement in all of the katas he was shown were ones he could accomplish without pain, and suspected they were something Obi-Wan had cobbled together from other Jedi forms just for him. The ongoing practice helped him restore and maintain a strength and flexibility that he had already begun to lose by the time he had arrived here. He knew moving through the katas helped Obi-Wan as well. They kept him grounded and it seemed to bring him a measure of peace that he was able to share this memory of his decimated culture with another. 

For now, Cody set the past aside, and put the future out of his mind, even a future so benign as an upcoming trip to the market. He focused entirely on the now, turning to one side to activate their simple little audio player, a slow, crackling musical tune filling the space of the small hut with crooning words in a language he did not know. When the door creaked open a few moments later, Cody was leaning against the counter, tapping out the steady soothing rhythm with his fingers.

Obi-Wan secured the door behind him, sealing out the grit and heat, walking over and placing a rough netting bag on the counter. Cody turned his body to the side without thought as Obi-Wan slid into the small space beside him as if they had choreographed the movement. The bag settled with a quiet clink of glass bottles jostling against one another and Cody reached out to put one hand on his lover’s hip, the other rising to rest gently on his neck and draw him in close for a kiss.

“Welcome home.”

* * *


End file.
